


Captive Audience

by Smidget



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Abduction, Captive Audiences, Dark, Drama, Evil Plans, Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Marvel Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Torture, evil doctor - Freeform, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-07-25 21:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20032798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smidget/pseuds/Smidget
Summary: Peter Parker and Tony Stark are kidnapped by a psychopath planning a massive event in New York and wants the only two heroes consistently in the city out of the way. The catch? He also wants something extra from Spidey. And Tony has no idea who Peter is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I know, I've been churning stuff out like crazy; feels like it to me too. But the inspo hasn't stopped, so I'm gonna keep going!
> 
> This story in particular was inspired by another fanfiction that I read the other day - similar in premise, but with some slight twists. The story was Helpless, by by WordsAblaze. We talked briefly and she kindly gave me the go-ahead on this. So yeah, definitely go read it, and big thanks to her!
> 
> I'm not sure how deep and dark this one is going to go, so I'm going to warn you now, it's probably not going to be for the faint of heart. I don't think we're going to go into the M range immediately, but it's a possibility in the future. That said, I don't have this planned nicely like I do The Internship, so Lord only knows where we'll end up. Might be bad; might also not be. But you've been warned. Also, this story is slightly AU; somewhere after Avengers got together but definitely no Civil War has happened.
> 
> Anyway, I don't want to say too much that could be spoilerific, so, Imma stop here! Thanks for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

"-ark? Mr. Stark?"

Tony Stark's eyes shot opened with a low inhale of breath. He blinked rapidly, finding that his head was absolutely _pounding_ as soon as he opened his eyes, which were of course having trouble focusing now.

He went to rub his eyes and realized he couldn't. He tried once, twice, jerking in surprise against whatever was holding him there.

That voice was still in the background, saying his name. It took a minute through the blinding pain in his head for him to be able to really focus on what it was saying.

"-not pull your bonds, Mr. Stark. Try to relax... It's gonna be alright. I'm sure your head probably hurts, but thrashing around isn't going to help that."

Tony blinked once more and managed to clear his eyesight. Where the hell was he? What had happened?

A quick glance around revealed no answers. The room was around them was brightly lit, at least - bad for his head, but good for his ability to see and make plans. Too bad he didn't see anything useful. Sterile tables and various bits of scientific equipment. The only other thing…

His eyes alighted on the kid right across from him. He was probably no more than sixteen, if even that; he could have passed for a ten year old in the right setting. His hair was a mop of light brown curls on his head, but it looked messy, like it hadn't been brushed in days. He was also the one prattling on.

"Kid." Tony managed to say the one word, then had to stop and swallow. His throat was dry as sandpaper. He tried again, studying the teen in front of him. "What's going on?"

His head snapped up when he spoke, and Tony met the boy's eyes, seeing the relief there that he was finally awake and talking. Clearly, though he'd been talking to him, he probably had been for a while and Tony hadn't been responding, so he hadn't expected one now. "Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy," he responded sarcastically. "Do you know anything about what's going on here?" He knew he was probably being a bit abrasive, but he needed to know, and he didn't deal well with kids or small talk on a good day.

The kid shook his head, looking down. "Not really. It's been a few hours since you arrived, though. You were drugged and if I had to guess you have a concussion, Mr. Stark, so you were out for a while."

"A concussion?" Tony frowned. Perhaps he had taken a nasty bump on the head at some point before ending up here; it would certainly explain his splitting headache. "Great. Any idea how long we've actually been here?"

He just shook his head again. Tony leaned back, studying him. Who was he? Why were they here, and here together? He'd been kidnapped a few times now, but this was the first time he'd had a kid for company. There had to be a reason, but if his brain normally knew it, it was lost right now.

His eyes suddenly landed on the bonds above the kid's head. His wrists were bound together, above him, just as Tony's were. But where Tony's were rope, somebody had wrapped chains around the teen's wrists.

He seemed to realize what Tony was looking at and looked down, his expression a bit sheepish. "Yeah, I broke mine the first time, so I got upgraded a little."

His brows drew together, surprise and confusion getting the best of him for a moment. "You...broke the rope?"

He flushed a little and nodded. "And...bent the bar. That's why I'm suspended and you're not."

Tony glanced up and down and suddenly realized the kid was right. His feet were bound together but low enough his toes skimmed the floor. The kid, on the other hand, had a good foot between him and the floor, and his ankles were bound separately by chains to the bars around him. _Holy shit_. He had to have an insane amount of strength, which he would never have guessed from this scrawny boy in front of him.

"Who are you, kid?"

Before the boy could answer, a door opened from somewhere out of his line of sight. He tried to crane his neck to see, but there was no physical way to do it. There was a quiet chuckle at his efforts.

"Who is he?" The voice was cold but amused. "The boy knew who you were the minute he opened his eyes, Stark."

A figure in a white lab jacket stepped into his line of sight, stopping directly between him and the kid and looking between them. He had dark, closed cropped hair, and dark eyes that made Tony's stomach clench when he caught sight of. There was no humanity in those eyes. This guy had snapped.

The man looked away from Tony, back to the kid hanging across from him. "How's that make you feel, kid? Your hero hasn't an inkling who hangs across from him. It's a shame you didn't just go when you broke out the first time." He looked back at Tony. "He would have gotten away, you know. I didn't calculate for that amazing metabolism he's got going on that made him wake up so fast, or the strength that seems to run to his very bones. Instead he tried to get you out too."

Tony tore his eyes from the psychopath to look at the kid again. He wouldn't meet his eyes, and instantly he knew it was true. _Shit_. Now he was only here because of him, even if they'd had no connection before. But what was he saying about the strength and the metabolism? And he acted like he should know who he was. Should he? He could swear he'd never met him before in his life, but then, that seemed to happen a lot with important people.

The man just clucked at him. "Both of New York's favorite heroes in a room together, and they don't even recognize each other. How sad."

"I did try to swing below the radar," the boy said quietly, still avoiding Tony's gaze.

_Swing_. It clicked then. _Holy shit_. "It's you?" Tony blurted, unable to help himself. "You're him. The Spider …ling… that guy."

He just nodded once. The man in the lab coat laughed maniacally. "About time. Oh, and he doesn't even know your hero name, kid. That's pretty rich, isn't it? They always say to never meet your heroes, don't they?"

Watching the kid flinch made his temper start to rise. At both this goon and himself. "Listen, why don't you just come out with whatever it is you want? A name would be nice, too," he added, as an afterthought.

The man just shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "As much as I'm sure you'd love to know my real name, Stark, you can just call me Doc. That's what I am - a doctor. And as for what I want…" he shrugged. "You, I just wanted out of my way for what's to come. The kid…" He glanced over at the chained teen. "I also wanted him out of my way, but I also wanted some information from him, too. He turned out to be pretty unpredictable, though, so I'm not surprised you hadn't discovered him before now." He looked back at him. "That's bad news for both of us now, though, because I'll have to keep you on a tighter rein than I was hoping to. But I can make it work."

Tony didn't like the sound of that. Any of it, in fact. He didn't know what was to come, but if he felt the need to abduct the heroes for it to happen, it certainly wasn't good. And this hint of "wanting information" gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The kid didn't look surprised by this, though, although he did look a little like he was going to be sick. It took a moment for Tony to fully understand the implications of what he was saying, and when he did suddenly felt the urge to be sick too. _Oh no_. This wasn't just about real information. He wasn't talking about torture… at least not of the normal variety.

He didn't really intend to experiment on him, did he? He'd asked him what was going on earlier, and the kid had told him he didn't know anything, but the look on his face said he'd known this already. So either this was a common issue for him, which seemed unlikely considering how reclusive he was, or he'd already talked to this guy and knew this was coming.

"You can't really intend to experiment on a kid."

Doc turned to him again, looking surprised. "Age, Mr. Stark, is just a number, as you should surely have realized by now. At any rate, I would do research on anyone with these kinds of abilities if I had the opportunity. Age is a nonfactor."

"Over my dead body it is," he almost growled, the words leaving his mouth without even considering them.

Doc simply raised an eyebrow. "I'd intended to let you live for your friends to come find - however many of them are left - once they've finished picking up the pieces of the city, but that could also certainly be arranged."

"No!"

They both looked at the kid again, surprised to realize that had just come out of him when he'd been so quiet this whole time. He wouldn't look up, and the sinking feeling in Tony's gut returned as he spoke again. "We talked about this. You said if I cooperate you won't hurt him. I do as you ask, and he walks. That's it, or I won't."

Tony stared at him, hardly believing what he was hearing. This kid had already tried to get him out _and_ bargained for his life while he'd hung around in these chains, unconscious. He felt a rush of something in his chest - something like shame, maybe, and a bit of determination. Wasn't he the older hero here? Shouldn't he be protecting him? He didn't even know this kid's name, hadn't been quick enough to even put the pieces together about his identity, and this was what he got in return. This was ridiculous.

The Doc has turned back to the kid and wasn't paying any attention to Tony anymore. "I haven't done anything yet, have I?" He said nothing. Doc just shrugged, turning around again. "Well, much as I'd like to stay and chat, I do have business to attend to. I'll be back later tonight." He looked between them again. "Behave yourselves, why don't you. I'd hate to have to hurt someone already." He turned to leave, clapping Tony on the shoulder as he walked past. "Maybe talk to the kid, hm? He is the reason you're still alive. And try to figure out his name, yeah?" Then he winked at him and kept walking.

The kid visibly relaxed slightly when the guy was out of the room, letting his head slump down and taking a few breaths. Tony watched him, wanting to say something but not even knowing where to start.

But he had to start somewhere, and ignoring the kid wasn't right, even if it would do them any good, which it clearly wouldn't. "What's your name, kid?" he asked quietly.

"Spider-Man."

"No. Your real name."

He seemed to debate for a minute, then sighed a little. "Peter."

"Peter. Good. I'm Tony." He already knew that, but he still felt the need to say it. He needed to talk to the kid, get him to trust him. If they had any shot of getting out here in one piece, they would have to work together.

"I know who you are, Mr. Stark."

"Clearly you did. Did you really bargain for my life while I was unconscious? Because listen, nice thought and all, but that's not cool. Especially not at that price." He studied him. He'd closed off as soon as the Doc had come in.

Peter took another breath, seeming to have the same thought. He could see him trying to relax enough to open up again. "I… I had to. One of us had to get out of here, and after what happened in the beginning… he would have hurt you."

_Oh_. So he'd essentially black mailed the kid into making the deal for his life. He sighed. "You can't really think he would let me go, kid."

Peter shrugged. "I think it's a possibility. He seems to think he'll hurt you more by seeing what you couldn't stop than killing you, but he's not opposed to it if… if I don't behave."

Well then. He inhaled a sharp breath, knowing inwardly that the Doc would probably be right, especially if anything happened to the handful of people in the world that he actually cared about. He made a conscious effort to shake the thoughts, knowing the kid was watching him. "I… still. You can't let him experiment on you just to keep him from hurting me. I'm a big boy too, you know."

Peter looked away, and he could see a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched it. "Look, he was going to do what he wanted to me either way. If I cooperate, it's less painful for both of us. Fighting would just make it worse."

Tony studied him closely. There was something about the way he said it that was so… resigned. Like he'd already given up on himself. Suddenly he realized what the ultimatum he'd been given was, and he had to close his eyes against the sudden resurgence of the headache.

"You'll die either way." He looked back at him, to see Peter flinch and look away. "Right? That's what he told you. You can't save yourself, but you can save me."

Peter closed his eyes, looking down. "Mr. Stark, I…"

"No. Look at me, Peter." He didn't move. "_Look at me_, kid, come on." Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting his eyes. Tony saw the pain and resolve there and had to steady himself before he could continue. He'd already been the unwilling survivor due to someone else's sacrifice once. It wasn't happening again, especially not to a kid. "You're going to be alright, kid. I promise you. We are _both_ going to get out of here."

Peter nodded and looked away again, not looking at all convinced but not arguing. Tony just sighed heavily, dropping his head for a moment. This… this was going to be hard.

In normal circumstances - if it were just him - he would hardly be worried at all. He could take some pain or torture just fine, if that was what was needed to buy time. And if he was just buying time for himself… even with the threat of whatever this guy was doing, he wouldn't be worried. Surely they knew he was missing by now, and nobody was perfect enough to leave no trail. The other Avengers would surely follow it and find him eventually. And even if they didn't… well, he'd escaped death plenty of times. He'd figure something out.

But having the kid in the mix made it a whole new deal. Now he wasn't buying time for just himself. In fact, of what the kid said was true, he didn't need to buy himself time at all. But he also couldn't stand by and watch him get picked to pieces, either. And that was exactly what would happen if he didn't do _something_.

Tony closed his eyes. He needed time to think, and he needed a plan. Preferably one solid enough he was sure he could keep his promise to the kid. He could worry about how to communicate it to him later; having some course of action was all that mattered right now.

And so Tony closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into a calm place of thought. He was not going to allow this maniac to tear this kid to pieces in front of him while whatever horrors he had up his sleeve played out in New York. Not on his watch. One way or another, he was going to get them both out of here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just realized I never updated this on this site. Sorry for that. 
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: just needed to put this out there before you read. I don't do trigger warnings very often but with this I felt I should. If you or anyone you know has ever had a PICC line, this chapter may be uncomfortable for you as it contains the insertion of one. Believe me, it was mildly uncomfortable for me to write, and it's been ages since I've had one. But it was the most medically accurate in this situation, so I felt it needed to be written. So, if you're uncomfortable or triggered with that, or anything similar, please take caution while reading this chapter. I won't be offended if it's not for you. 
> 
> Outside of that, nothing else to say except I hope you enjoy!

He didn’t mean to fall asleep. 

Somewhere in the midst of planning, though, he’d drifted off into sleep instead of meditation. It must have been whatever he’d been given to knock him out, still filtering through his system, because that normally didn’t happen. 

Thankfully, it seemed like not much had happened while he was out, and when he came to, the kid was also asleep. He took a few breaths, looking around and thinking. 

Given enough time, he was sure he could get out of his bonds, and once he got his hands free, getting his feet free would be easy. Whoever this doctor was, he didn’t know about that the slim bands on either wrist were not exactly what they appeared, or else he definitely would have taken them. But once he revealed them, that was his ace in the hole, and he only had one shot. If he failed, Doc would surely take them. 

There was also the dilemma of getting the kid out to consider. His bonds were not so easily broken, what with the chains and all. He was sure he could melt them with a few good shots, given the opportunity, but he could also melt the flesh off Peter’s limbs if he wasn’t careful with it. And the way it stood right now, there was not a whole lot of ways to get them off that wouldn’t result in hurting him somehow. There had to be a key, but more than likely it was on Doc’s body, and that in itself was a whole other dilemma. 

He considered, briefly, leaving the kid if he got free, just long enough to get help and come back for him. But he didn’t think he could stomach it, knowing what Doc would do to him while he was gone. He would probably know that was exactly his intent and do whatever he could to hurt him before he returned, if he didn’t kill him outright. Or worse, if he got away with him before Tony could return… no, leaving was not an option. 

He studied Peter silently. Especially in his sleep, the kid looked… well, like a kid. He was so  _ young _ . It was so hard to believe this fragile looking kid in front of him was the vigilante webslinger he’d been keeping tabs on. 

Because of course he’d been watching him, keeping track of what he did, where he showed up most, all that stuff. He’d been thinking about trying to make contact with him for a while, but held off, mostly because he knew his own shortcomings. What could he offer the kid? Help? He wasn’t exactly the best teacher. He wasn’t an incredibly patient person and he’d screwed up so many times… who would want to learn from him? He’d further considered it on behalf of the other Avengers, knowing some of them would probably be excellent teachers, but all of them were in and out so often that it seemed like it would just go to hell pretty quickly. 

He regretted that decision now. If he had at least given the kid some kind of help, offered him even some kind of distress signal for when he got into too much trouble… well, he, at the very least, might not be here right now. 

He pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t afford to think like that. Everything that happened was already done; he needed to focus on the here and now and keeping this kid in the best shape possible until the other Avengers came. 

And they would come, he was sure of that. He just didn’t know how long it would be. Nat and Clint were out of the country doing only God knows what. Thor was back in Asgard. Rhodey was in California back at base. Cap and Sam were also God only knows where, although he was fairly certain their mysterious location was still in the US. Bruce was the only one who was possibly still even in state, although he definitely wasn’t in the city, especially if what this guy had said was anything to go by. He had taken off to his own research center and had made it perfectly clear that that was where he was intending to stay until a new disaster hit or he came up with a breakthrough for whatever he was working on. 

That left them with quite a timetable. It would take time for everyone to be notified that he was missing, for them to wrap things up and get back to the city - that in itself could take up to a week, depending on how hard they were working at not being found and if whatever mission they were on could be abandoned or put on hold or if they had to wrap it up. Then there was the time it took to find them, which could easily be another week on its own, but with whatever it was this guy was planning… Whether they got back quick enough to thwart him or in time to clean up the pieces, there was also that to consider for time and distraction. That could add anywhere from a few days to maybe another week and some. 

So the likelihood was that they would be stuck here for two to three weeks. Two to three weeks of watching this kid essentially get tortured in front of him. He couldn’t hold back a quiet groan.

He wished he could have when the kid’s eyes fluttered open at the sound. “Mr. Stark?” His voice was low and croaky. 

“Right here, kid.” He watched as the teen lifted his head and winced slightly, rolling his neck around to loosen the stiffness in it. “You doing okay?” It was a weak attempt at comfort, but he wasn’t very good at it at all.

Peter blinked a few times and nodded. “I’m okay.” There was an unspoken conditional in his words that neither of them had the heart to say, and the room felt heavy with it. 

Tony forced himself to break the silence, unable to take it and not wanting the kid to focus on it. “How old are you?” It was the first question that came to his head, and the one he really wanted to know.

“Fifteen.”

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, hissing through his teeth. He really was a baby. Still, he couldn’t focus on it, needed to lift the mood. “So how does a fifteen year old kid become a crime-fighting spider-themed vigilante?” 

Peter frowned. “I know I’m only fifteen, Mr. Stark, but I’m really not a child. I know how the world works and I… well, I’ve experienced more of it than I’ve ever wanted to, so when I got these powers….” He shrugged the best he could in his chains, looking down. “I wanted to try to make it so that no one else would have to, especially other kids.” 

Tony studied him, his brows drawing together. That definitely wasn’t the whole story, but now seemed like a bad time to push for the darker stuff. He was trying to make the kid feel better, not worse. “I see. So what do your parents think of having a spider-themed vigilante for a kid? Think you took your crush on Black Widow a bit too far?” 

It was supposed to be humorous, but instead, the kid flinched like he’d slapped him. “My parents wouldn’t know anything about my crushes or my activities, considering they’ve been dead for ten years.” There was little bite behind the words, just some long-standing pain and resignation. 

Tony still felt them like a punch in the gut.  _ Shit. What the hell is the matter with you? Do you think at all before you talk?  _ “That sucks, kid.” That sounded terrible. He continued quickly, “I lost my parents pretty young too. It’s never a good experience.” He debated asking what happened, who he lived with now, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to bring up any bad memories, and he also wasn’t sure how much Doc actually knew about the kid. He didn’t want him accidentally revealing something to him that Doc might find out if he didn’t already know. Instead he asked, quietly, “Does anyone else know?” 

Peter simply shook his head. “No one.”

“How long do you think it’ll take anyone to notice you’re missing? Anyone who will?” 

Peter sighed. “One or two people who might, but it could be a day or two. I’m not exactly popular or very important.” 

Ouch. That last part wasn’t meant to be a purposeful dig at him, he was fairly sure, but it still sent a pang in his chest. And what was worse was he knew how he felt. When he was his age, he was about the same way. Important in a way, yes, because he was a Stark, but isolated, with probably exactly two people in the world who had cared about him. And one of them had revealed years later that even that had been a lie.

He wanted to tell him that he sympathized with him, that really, they weren’t so different, and that of course he was important, even if he didn’t realize it. But before he could say any of that, the door opened again.

Peter’s eyes snapped behind him, and Tony suddenly realized he could see the door. The thought made him suddenly furious again because it was so  _ calculated _ . If Peter could see the door, he knew what was coming before it happened. If Tony couldn’t, then he had no idea, and he had no way to comfort the kid or think of any type of plan to thwart it. 

“What is it?” Tony asked him. “Talk to me, kid.” 

Peter tore his eyes away and back to him, biting his lip. “Just Doc, but he’s brought some goons with him,” he murmured. He could see the worry furrowing his brows.

“Kid, I-“

“Well, did we enjoy our naps?” Doc appeared between them again, indeed flanked by two men, both of which didn’t quite rival Cap for size, but came pretty close. He knew it had to be all muscle, and not from being enhanced the same way Cap was, but he still didn’t like it. 

“Actually, my neck is a little stiff. Back too. Maybe next time you should tie your prisoners to beds, at least.” Tony quirked an eyebrow at him. The more attention he kept on him, the better. 

Doc chuckled, and he knew the man knew exactly what he was doing. “Duly noted, Stark.” He snapped his fingers, which must have been some kind of signal, because the two men split off from him, one going to stand by both him and Peter. Doc winked at Tony before turning on his heel to face Peter. “Alright kid. Here’s the deal. I have to let you out of those chains for this. One of my goons, as you so kindly called them, is going to let you out, and you’re going to behave yourself, because if you don’t, this one over here-“ he pointed to the man who’d moved to stand beside Tony, “-is going to start testing your hero’s pain tolerance. Understand?”

Peter glanced at Tony, taking in the hard set of his jaw and meeting his eyes for a brief moment. Tony was careful not to show any hint of fear. Because he was scared, definitely, but not for himself. But the kid wouldn’t know that, so he forced himself not to show it at all. Then the teen dropped his eyes and just nodded. 

The burly man released Peter’s feet first, then rebound them together in makeshift shackles. Then Doc undid the chains keeping him suspended in the air, letting the slack release, and Peter simply fell the few feet to the floor below him, the force driving him onto his knees. At least his hands came free at that point and he was able to catch himself so he didn’t go face first into the floor as well. 

“Was that necessary?” Tony snapped, the words escaping him before he even realized where they’d really bubbled up from. 

Doc was the only one who spared him a glance, but even he didn’t bother to answer. Peter was too focused on getting himself up, pushing himself upright with shaky arms. He was immediately grabbed by the bodyguard, yanking his hands behind him but not binding them as he dragged him over to a steel table in the middle of the room.

Tony could only watch as they forced the kid onto it and pushed him down. One arm was cuffed above his head, while the other Doc took in his grasp, rolling up Peter’s sleeve and studying his arm. “What are you doing?” Tony demanded. Clearly Peter wasn’t going to say anything, probably afraid any unauthorized action would be construed as fighting, but that wouldn’t stop him from doing it. 

The doctor paid him little attention, going over to a cabinet and pulling out a small machine. It was mostly hidden from Tony’s view by the doctor’s body, but Peter seemed to recognize it. “Isn’t that the thing they use on pregnant women?” he blurted, apparently too surprised not to think better of it.

Doc just chuckled at his question. “Yes. It’s an ultrasound machine.” He set it on the edge of the table, turning it on and making quick work of pulling on gloves. He grabbed a tube of something and squirted it on Peter’s arm. The boy made a face, to which the doctor chuckled again. “I probably should have warned you that it was cold. Oh well. This part won’t hurt.” 

“This part?” Tony butted in again. 

Doc didn’t even look up from the machine as he moved the wand over Peter’s arm. “Yes, this part, Stark. Ultrasounds aren’t painful. PICC insertion, on the other hand, isn’t going to be comfortable, especially since I can’t give him anything to numb it like he would normally receive.” 

“Why not?” 

It was Peter who answered, and when Tony forced his eyes from the machine to the kid’s face, he realized how pale he’d suddenly turned. He knew whatever the thing he was talking about was, and he didn’t like it. Tony cursed his lack of any medical expertise and vowed to get some if they got out of this. “Because of my metabolism. I can’t use normal medication. It wouldn’t work, and even if it did, it would only last a few minutes. Not long enough for him to place it.” His voice was quiet but sure.

Even the doctor looked at him with surprise. “You’ve had one of these before?”

Peter looked away. His expression would have been borderline sheepish were it not for the fear mixed into it. “Before the bite, I was a sickly kid. It’s not my first go round with forced medical procedures.” His voice would have sounded bitter if it weren’t so shaky. 

_ Oh _ .  _ Shit _ . Tony filed the subtle information and the questions that arose from it away for later and decided to focus on just keeping Peter distracted right now. He could see the doctor finishing with the ultrasound and wiping the jelly substance off his arm. He saw the doctor grab a needle with a tube that had to be at least as long as his forearm attached and quickly tried to pull the kid’s attention back to him. “Peter.” It took a second for him to tear his eyes away, but then the boy’s eyes snapped back to him. “Don’t look at it, kid. Look at me. Talk to me.”

“About what, Mr. Stark?” Peter winced as Doc scrubbed his arm with a disinfectant, glancing at him again for a moment. He couldn’t keep his eyes from widening slightly at the same thing Tony had just seen. 

“Hey, Pete, back to me.” He waited until Peter met his eyes again before urging him, “Anything. Tell me… uh… what do you do outside of being the Spiderling?”

“Spider-Man, Mr. Stark. I, uh…” He winced, as the needle went in and had to take a steadying breath to continue. “I obviously go to school, and… I did rob- _ robotics  _ for a while, but I… quit that to make time for patrolling. I kept band, though. And I’m-I’m on the academic decathlon team.” He kept stumbling or having to stop for a moment, even as he almost spit the words through his gritted teeth and clenched jaw. His face was twisted up with pain and the efforts of keeping still and concentrating on what he was saying. 

Tony felt for the kid. Watching this happen made him feel sick, and it was all the worse knowing this was a precursor for what was to come, and not even actually an attempt to hurt him. Still, talking gave him something to focus on besides the pain, so he continued. “Academic decathlon and robotics, huh? You’re a science-y one, then. I half expected that, though, what with the way you designed that suit to work, and your web fluid. Did you make that?” Keep him listening, keep him talking, keep him doing anything besides focusing on what that bastard was doing. 

Peter hissed through his teeth, and Tony curled his fingers into a fist, wishing there was something he could do. He’d given up on holding eye contact, as the kid had squeezed his eyes shut almost as soon as the doctor started digging around in his arm. “I-I’m the STEM specialist for decathalon. Me and one of- one of my friends, I mean.” He swallowed hard, taking a second before continuing to address Tony’s other comments. He was speaking pretty slowly, forcing the words out to be so clear with only minor slip ups. “And my suit is just- just designed to… complement what I can do. ‘S not the source of it. The only thing that doesn’t come from me directly is the webs. B-but yeah, I made them.” 

The kid stopped, and Tony noticed him starting to relax slightly. The doctor was done digging, apparently, and he was holding very still as he secured it in place, clearly not wanting to do that again. When the doctor was satisfied the line was in place and secure, he walked away long enough to grab a different machine. This one, Tony could tell by the structure and the fact he could see the screen this time, was an x-ray machine. Also not painful. He exhaled a slight sigh of relief, sensing the worst was over for now. “You made the webs, huh? And the suit? That’s impressive.” And he wasn’t just saying it to make him feel better. The things this fifteen year old had accomplished… well, had he had the proper resources and guidance, it sounded like his accomplishments could have come close to rivalling Tony’s own at that age. 

Peter’s voice was weak but sincere. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” His red eyes met Tony’s, and he knew the boy was thanking him for more than just the compliment. 

“Of course, kid.” He looked back at the doctor, who was hooking a syringe up to the tubes now hanging out of Peter’s arm. “Well, Doc? You done torturing the kid for a while?”

“Almost, Stark.” Doc sounded almost amused as he started pulling blood from the line, filling up a few waiting tubes and then attaching him to a bag he already had hanging on a nearby pole. “There.” He released the cuff holding Peter’s other arm, watching as the guard grabbed it and pulled the boy off the table. “We’ll put you in a chair for now. Drips run better if they’re elevated above the heart, anyway.” He stripped off his gloves and started putting equipment away. “I trust you won’t do anything stupid, between not wanting Mr. Hero over here to get hurt and not wanting to have that replaced.” Peter flinched at the thought, and Doc smiled smugly before turning back to Tony. “Now your turn, then we’ll finish up here.”

Peter nearly jolted out of the chair he’d been forced into, almost managing to dislodge the goon tying his arm down. “You are not-”

“Relax, kid. I’ll be fine,” Tony interrupted, giving him a sharp warning look. Peter just looked up at him with wide eyes, but settled back into the chair, not resisting as the guy returned to chaining his wrists. 

Doc just waved them both off. “He just needs a basic access line for a drip anyway.” He changed his gloves, then approached Tony with a much smaller set of supplies. 

It took two minutes for him to find a vein in his forearm and insert the normal IV - quick and relatively painless, especially compared to the almost hour with the preparation and all the digging it had taken to place Peter’s. He left his unconnected to anything for now, discarding his supplies and stripping off his gloves again. “There. All done.” He checked his watch. “I have places to be, but I’ll be back to check on you later. Behave yourselves.” And with that, the doctor swept out of the room, taking the goons with him and leaving them alone. 


End file.
